By Abdullahi A. Nor

Somaliland is constitutionally part of the Federal Republic of Somalia. Yet more than three decades after the collapse of the Somali state, the unresolved question of Somaliland has returned with renewed force—this time carrying the unmistakable risk of pushing not only Somalia, but Somaliland itself, toward comprehensive collapse.

When the Somali central government disintegrated in 1991, a unilateral declaration of secession was announced in May of that year in the northern city of Burao. The declaration was led by the Somali National Movement (SNM), a rebel group whose leadership and constituency were overwhelmingly drawn from a single clan—the Isaaq. The announcement was made without consultation with other communities inhabiting the same territory, including the Warsangeli, Dhulbahante, Gadabuursi, and Ciise.

These exclusions were not incidental. They laid the foundations for a political project built on contestation rather than consensus. Over time, resistance hardened. The Northern Harti ( Dhulbahanti and Warsangeli) would later withdraw entirely and establish their own federal member state- Northeast aligned with Mogadishu. The Gadabuursi and Ciise have consistently rejected what they view as an Isaaq-dominated secessionist agenda. Critics also point out that the SNM’s own written charter never authorized secession from Somalia, raising fundamental questions about the legal and political basis of Somaliland’s founding claim.

Ethiopia’s Hand and the Politics of Proxy Destruction

The roots of Somalia’s fragmentation are inseparable from regional power politics. Ethiopia, pursuing a long-standing security doctrine aimed at neutralizing threats from its eastern frontier, armed and supported Somali insurgent movements throughout the late 1980s and early 1990s. Among the most prominent were the SNM, the SSDF, and the USC.

The objective was clear: weaken and ultimately dismantle a once-powerful Somali state. In that goal, Ethiopia succeeded. But the cost was catastrophic. These armed movements, they contend, functioned less as ideological liberation fronts than as instruments of proxy warfare—militarized factions whose actions hollowed out the state without offering a viable replacement. One Somali analyst captured the contradiction bluntly: “It was like claiming to liberate Palestine while taking weapons from Tel Aviv.”

The consequences of that era continue to reverberate today.

Israel, Somaliland, and a Dangerous New Alignment

Against this backdrop, the celebration by some Somaliland leaders of recognition by Israel has ignited widespread alarm. Israel remains diplomatically isolated across much of the Muslim world and the Global South, particularly in the wake of the destruction of Gaza, the killing of tens of thousands of civilians, the blockade of food and medicine, and the systematic demolition of hospitals and civilian infrastructure.

For Somaliland’s Isaaq political elite to frame engagement with Israel as part of an “Abraham Accord” has shocked many Somalis and deeply unsettled the wider Islamic world. The move represents not diplomacy but moral and strategic recklessness. International organizations—including the Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), the African Union (AU), the European Union (EU), and the United Nations—have consistently affirmed Somalia’s territorial integrity and have shown no indication that they will recognize what they view as a clan-based enclave lacking broad internal consent.

Israel’s motives is neither subtle nor benign. Somaliland’s coastline sits astride the Gulf of Aden and the entrance to the Red Sea—one of the most strategic maritime corridors on earth. Control or influence here would offer Israel leverage over shipping routes used by Muslim-majority states and countries supportive of Palestine. The fear is stark: that northern Somalia could be transformed into a forward operating zone for external conflicts, with missile exchanges, naval confrontations, and proxy wars imported wholesale into the Horn of Africa.

In this calculation, critics say, the lives of ordinary people in northern Somalia matter little—no more than those of civilians in Gaza.

A Federal Government in Free Fall

If external pressures were the only problem, Somalia might still have a chance to steady itself. But the internal collapse of governance in Mogadishu has left the country dangerously exposed.

After nearly four years in office, President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud stands accused by opponents, civil society figures, and former allies of presiding over a systematic dismantling of the state. Federalism, they argue, has been hollowed out. The provisional constitution has been unilaterally altered. The national army painstakingly rebuilt under former President Mohamed Abdullahi Farmaajo has been depleted in poorly planned offensives.

Politically, the president stands increasingly isolated. Puntland and Jubaland—federal member states whose leaders claim legal and electoral legitimacy—have severed ties with Mogadishu. The three remaining administrations still nominally aligned with the federal government—South West, Hirshabelle, and Galmudug—are led by presidents whose mandates expired more than two years ago, leaving their authority legally and morally contested.

Allegations of State Capture and Urban Dispossession

Perhaps most damaging are allegations of large-scale corruption and state capture. Opposition politicians and civil society activists accuse President Hassan of placing key state institutions under the control of close family members and relatives. They further allege that approximately 124 prime public land plots in Mogadishu—including hospitals, universities, military barracks, hotels, and industrial zones—have been illegally sold.

These transactions, critics say, have displaced more than 250,000 internally displaced people, many of whom had lived on government land for decades. Security forces were reportedly deployed to carry out forced evictions. The humanitarian and political consequences have been explosive.

Public anger has reached unprecedented levels. The president is now widely regarded as unable to appear in public without heavy security. When he attempts to address crowds, chants of “Hassan thief” erupt, often forcing his rapid evacuation. Opposition figures describe a leader detached from reality, showing no remorse while the state disintegrates around him.

Nationalism as a Smokescreen

With only five months remaining in his term, President Hassan faces a stark political reality: himself on one side, and much of the Somali public on the other. Many Somalis believe he was aware for months of Israel’s engagement with Somaliland, yet only now presents himself before parliament as a defender of national unity.

To critics, the strategy is transparent. They argue the president is attempting to exploit the Somaliland–Israel issue to distract from his failing legitimacy and to justify a term extension—an outcome they insist is neither legal nor politically viable.

This pattern, they say, is familiar. In 2022, amid a costly and inconclusive war against Al-Shabaab, nationalist rhetoric dominated official discourse. When a maritime agreement involving Somaliland and Ethiopia emerged—an agreement the president was reportedly aware of—he seized upon it to deflect from battlefield failures, declaring that “Ethiopia is worse than Al-Shabaab,” only to later make repeated visits to Addis Ababa, praising Ethiopia as “brothers.”

A Country Encircled, A Capital Surrounded

Today, Al-Shabaab remains a persistent and lethal threat. The group surrounds Mogadishu. Some Somalis believe the reason it has not re-entered the capital lies not in military strength, but in opaque arrangements and internal compromises within the state—allegations the government denies, but which continue to circulate widely.

What is no longer in doubt is the scale of the danger. Somalia is not merely facing political turbulence. It is confronting the real possibility of systemic collapse—one that would engulf Mogadishu, Somaliland, and the wider Horn of Africa alike.

Unless decisive internal reform and responsible international engagement occur, Somalia risks becoming not a failed state, but a shattered one—fragmented beyond repair, and once again abandoned to warlords, proxies, and foreign interests.

The warning signs are no longer subtle. They are flashing red.

Abdullahi A. Nor
Email: abdulahinor231@gmail.com